


The Lord of the Flies to Ian's Geometry Textbook

by ronans



Series: Prompts [24]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Flustered Mickey, Kissing, Libraries, M/M, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 22:37:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3505325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronans/pseuds/ronans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Prompt:</strong> High School sweetheart AU - Ian and Mickey meet in a library. They always find themselves coming back because they want to see each other and they even have this secret place behind the bookshelves where no one can see them where they talk and where they kiss for the first time - <a href="http://southsidemilkovich.tumblr.com/post/113063916679/highschool-sweetheart-au-prompt-ian-and-mickey">Anon</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lord of the Flies to Ian's Geometry Textbook

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at titles :)))))))

Setting foot in the school library was supposed to be a one-time deal. Find whatever the fuck kind of book  _Lord of the Flies_ was, check it out with the library card he’d lifted off a random sophomore, and leave forever. It wasn’t like he expected to see an attractive as fuck guy hanging around the math textbook section. He’s definitely not a senior; Mickey would have noticed him before had he been in the same grade.

Inevitably, the same redhead Mickey had been staring at for the last two minutes looks up from leafing through his textbook and makes direct eye contact with Mickey. Fuck.

Mickey quickly picks up the closest book to him and pretends to be intensely absorbed in the story, praying the guy’s not going to try to come over and talk to him.

‘It kinda helps if the book’s the right way up… you know, when you’re reading it.’

Mickey jumps and turns around to glare at the guy who, yep, has decided to make conversation with him. He tries to hide his mild embarrassment behind swearing. ‘Fuck off.’

The guy actually fucking _laughs_ and sticks around instead of following Mickey’s pretty clear instructions. ‘Jesus, and I thought I’d made the _wrong_ initial judgement of a dude with those knuckle tattoos.’

Mickey takes everything back that he thought about the guy being attractive. ‘You’re an asshole,’ Mickey says simply, smiling with his lips pressed tightly together. Mickey spots the battered cover of the book he’d been looking for and nabs it before turning around on his heel and marching in the direction of the check-out desk. He’d steal it, but he can’t be fucked with dealing with the school’s pathetic alarm system today.

‘Hey! Wait, I’m-‘

‘ _Shhh_!’

Mickey’d thought that only happened in movies. He sniggers as he glances back at the redhead who’s suitably pink cheeked. He raises his eyebrows and waits until the guy catches up to him, carding a hand through his floppy hair. He grins when he reaches Mickey and places his hands out in front of him in a placating manner.  He opens his mouth to start talking before noticing the glare one of the librarians is still sending their way.

Much to Mickey’s annoyance, he grabs Mickey’s arm and pulls him into a more secluded area, sheltered by a few rows of short bookshelves. To say Mickey’s pissed is an understatement.

‘The fuck’re you doin’?’ he hisses, getting up close to the guy’s face. Probably a big mistake considering that, yeah, he's still finding him fucking attractive, no matter how hard he's tried to deny it to himself.

‘I just wanted to say sorry,’ he hurries out, pushing Mickey back a little by briefly placing his hands on his chest. ‘Yeah, okay, I was an asshole, I’m just…’ He exhales and hits the back of his head against the bookshelf, sliding down it until he’s sat on the floor. Mickey shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

‘That was a bit fuckin’ dramatic.’

The guy snickers and keeps his eyes on his hands as he picks at the skin around his index nail. Eventually, Mickey exhales and joins him on the floor, leaning against the bookshelf opposite. He glances up and smiles over at Mickey.

‘So?’ Mickey pushes, eyebrows high on his forehead.

‘So… what?’

Mickey feels like he’s already more than filled his eye rolling quota for the day. ‘ _So_ , why the fuck am I hiding behind some random ass bookshelves with another dude who I don’t even know the fucking name of?’

‘I’m Ian. Ian Gallagher.’

‘Okay,’ Mickey mutters, tone of voice unchanged.

‘Aren’t… Aren’t you gonna tell me _your_ name?’

‘Nope.’

‘Right.’ He clears his throat and drops his gaze again. ‘I guess I just wanted to explain why I didn’t really think before being a dick to you.’ Mickey makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat and goes to get up, but suddenly Ian looks worried, darting out a hand as if to stop him. ‘Hey, woah, where you goin’?’

Mickey lifts an eyebrow. ‘You’re turning this into a bigger deal than it is.’ It’s not like Mickey’s going to hold this big fucking grudge and come after Ian with a bat or anything.

‘Right,’ Ian repeats. ‘Just, uhm… Sorry, yeah.’

 _For fuck’s sake_. Mickey sits himself back down and sends the top of Ian’s head the most _done_ look he can possibly manage. ‘A’right, c’mon. What the fuck’s up with you?’

Ian looks back up at Mickey, evidently confused about his sudden interest, and cautiously starts to answer. ‘I guess I’m just stressed about my math homework. Nothing’s fucking clicking. I'm failing every single pop quiz.'

 _Hey, I’m older than you and have most likely done all this shit already, and I ain’t too shabby with math, so I guess I could tutor you or somethin’_ very, very nearly gets blurted out. He stops himself at the last second, thank god, and remains safely distanced from the other kid.

‘That’s too bad, man. Textbook should help ya, though,’ he says instead with a casual shrug. Ian replies with a tiny smile that looks more disappointed than anything. Mickey almost caves. He shoots up into a standing position instead and nods briskly. ‘Okay. I guess I’ll fuckin’ see you ‘round.’

‘Yeah… See ya,’ Ian sighs. Jesus Christ, what the hell, why’s Mickey feeling _bad_ about leaving this one guy who happens to look like a kicked puppy when being left to deal with his fucking math problems on his own?

He exits the library and doesn’t look back, because he’s worried that if he does, he’ll genuinely offer to help. Mickey Milkovich doesn’t fucking _help_ with school work... Probably.

*

Mickey hates himself a little bit when he finds himself in the library again two days later. He’s already seen this place more times in the last week than he has in… _ever_. He tells himself there might be a less-battered copy of _Lord of the Flies_ than the one he’d checked-out somewhere among the bookshelves. Yeah, that’s why he’s back here.

He’s terrible at lying to himself. He’s terrible at even pretending to carry out what he said he’d come here for. He’s terrible at preventing himself from keeping an eye out for a certain shade of orange.

After a while of scanning-the-premises-for-a-certain-Ian-Gallagher-but-not-really-doing-that, Mickey sighs and drags his feet as he makes his way over to the spot Ian had hauled him to the other day. He doesn’t want to take himself there because that involves admitting to himself that the literal only reason he’s here is because he’s hoping Ian’s here too. That totally isn’t the truth, because he doesn’t feel bad at all about not providing his help. Fuck.

He doesn’t know why he’s so shocked when he sees Ian sat down against one of the bookshelves with his head buried in a geometry textbook, but he is, and he lets out an involuntary ‘woah’ that has Ian snapping his head up instantly. _Fuck_. No turning back now.

‘Oh hey,’ Ian greets with a fucking huge grin. He’s wearing this plaid shirt that’s really doing wonders for his arms and Mickey’s pretty much lost all the moisture in his mouth.

‘Hi.’ He coughs and his throat grates. ‘What’re you doin’ here?’ Dumb fucking question.

Ian’s eyes get this slight panicked look in them for a split second before he’s composing himself and plastering on a cocky expression. He elevates an eyebrow and then, using his finger as a bookmark, holds up his textbook, wiggling it in his hand to draw attention to it. ‘Studying… What’re _you_ doing here?’

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh _fuck_. Mickey has literally no reason to be here. He gulps again and can’t remember the last time he was this fucking flustered around a boy. Probably never. He darts his arm out to the side and picks a random book out of the shelf without looking. Like _that_ didn’t look stupid and suspicious. He’s regretting all of his life choices because somehow they all contributed to him ending up at this point, in front of Ian Gallagher, making a complete dick of himself. _Please don’t be fucking upside down this time_ , Mickey pleads to the book in his head. He holds it out in front of him so Ian can read the front cover. Slightly risky considering Mickey doesn’t even have a fucking clue what he’s picked up.

‘ _Coping with an Unplanned Pregnancy_ ,’ Ian reads out. Mickey closes his eyes and he is _so fucking done_ with today.

‘It’s for my… sister?’

‘Mandy?’ Ian responds quickly, looking completely shocked. What the fuck, how does he even _know_ who his sister is? Fuck.

‘Uh… no… I have another… one… How the fuck do you know who my sister is?’

Ian coughs and Mickey thinks he’s successfully pushed past the whole pregnancy book thing. ‘She’s my friend and I was supposed to meet up with her yesterday, and she asked me why I was late.’

‘After the library thing?’ Mickey can’t help but ask for clarification.

‘Yup. I told her about you and she recognised who I was talking about from the tattoos.’

Mickey stares at Ian, unsure of how he should be reacting right now. ‘You told your friend, who also happens to be my sister, about my tattoos.’

Ian actually starts to blush and that’s fucking Mickey up in the worst way. ‘Uh, yeah.’

‘Great,’ Mickey sighs, moving over to the other bookshelf and sitting down against it. Ian looks surprised at the action. ‘What?’ he snaps.

‘Nothin’… So, uh… You enjoying your book?’

‘I told you, the pregnancy book ain’t for m-‘

Ian shakes his head and grins, fully closing his textbook and placing it on the floor next to him. ‘I meant _Lord of the Flies_.’

Mickey looks over at Ian incredulously. ‘You saw that, huh?’

‘Yep.’

Observant fucker. ‘Whatever. It’s just for some stupid fuckin’ English essay. Gotta read the damn book if I don’t wanna fail outta high school, I guess.’

‘You’ll do fine. At least you know how to read.’

Mickey frowns. ‘Is that supposed to be some kinda subtle insult?’

Ian’s expression becomes alarmed. ‘No! Shit, no, I just meant that I can’t fucking read math stuff…’

Okay, that’s it. ‘I know math,’ Mickey blurts out. _Super intelligent sounding_.

‘Good for you,’ Ian grumbles, looking forlornly at his shut textbook.

‘I mean, I can help you out if you need it, fuckhead,’ Mickey sighs. ‘What’re you, like a junior?’

‘Yeah,’ Ian replies with a hopeful tone to his voice. Mickey shouldn’t feel so proud of being the one to put it there.

‘Well, surprise! I’ve already done this shit.’

Ian shakes his head and flicks his gaze away from Mickey. ‘I can’t make you do that. You’ve got finals ‘n shit like that to focus on.’

Mickey rolls his eyes. ‘When did you say anything about me teaching you stuff? I was the one who fuckin’ suggested it,’ he mumbles, and he doesn’t know how the fuck he went from being in complete denial over wanting to see the redhead again, to actually putting forward that he's willing to spend time with him and help him progress in a subject he's failing.

‘Thanks, man, that’s-‘ Ian’s cut off by the quiet beep of a phone alarm. Ian mashes his eyebrows together and digs around in his pocket until he’s pulling out his cell. His face smoothes out and he bites his lip. ‘Shit.’

‘What?’

‘I gotta be at ROTC training in, like, two minutes.’

‘ROTC? And now?’ Mickey sniggers, watching as Ian stuffs the textbook into his backpack. Ian grins at Mickey as he zips up his bag.

‘Oh yeah,’ he says with a smirk. He’s soon scowling again, though, as he re-checks the time on his phone. ‘I gotta leave myself enough time to change, as well. But my fucking alarm was set wrong, or something. I’m so late. Shit.’

Mickey _tries_ not to think of Ian in the ROTC uniform he's seen a few guys around school wearing. _Tries_. ‘A’ight then.’

‘You’ll be here tomorrow, right?’ Ian asks, pausing halfway through shouldering on his bag, looking expectantly at Mickey.

He smiles and nods. ‘Yeah. I’ll be here.’

And so begins the daily ritual.

*

It takes Mickey another week to get halfway through the book, but the reason for his sluggish pace is more out of a lack of free time to read rather than a lack of interest – his dad had been really pushing hard about the Milkovich brothers’ need to get involved with the “family business”, as Terry’d called it. “Family business” was code for illegal shit Terry didn’t want explicitly being spread around.

‘It’s actually… okay,’ Mickey reluctantly confesses to Ian one lunchtime in the library when they’re sat behind the bookshelves. Slowly, Mickey’s realised that lunch breaks spent sat with Ian are pretty much the only times where he feels like he can forget his home life and any worries floating around his brain. It fucking sucks that he can’t let himself feel like this all the time, but he can at least pretend it’s reality whenever he’s around Ian. He can let himself feel good, maybe even be actually fucking happy.

Ian rolls his eyes and nudges Mickey's shoulder with his own. ‘You know how fuckin’ long I’ve been waiting for you to admit that?’

Mickey scoffs and frowns at Ian. ‘What the fuck, you had a personal wager on me likin’ a book?’

‘Kinda. I mean, it’s got a pig’s head on a stick. What’s not to like about it? It was just a matter of time before Mickey Milkovich confessed to actually enjoying reading.’ Ian smirks and plucks the book out of Mickey’s grasp, flicking to a random page and scanning his eyes down it. Mickey watches Ian’s face the whole time and is kind of embarrassed at how long it takes for him to finally tear his gaze away. ‘I think you’d like _Fight Club_.’

‘Oh so you’re suggesting movies for me now, huh?’ Mickey titters, lifting an eyebrow as he looks back at Ian’s profile.

He rolls his eyes again and grins at Mickey. ‘It’s actually also a book. But we could watch the movie sometime. I mean…’ Ian clears his throat and looks away but he’s still got a tiny smile on his lips.

Mickey actually surprises himself by slowly nodding his head. ‘Yeah. Sure, man.’

Ian snaps his head up in surprise. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah,’ Mickey repeats.

The beam on Ian’s face is completely over the top considering it’s over the prospect of spending more time with Mickey, but Mickey can’t help but smile back. ‘Cool.’

A weird tension starts growing between them and Mickey doesn’t know how fucking long they end up just staring at each other in silence, but he can feel himself jump at the sound of the bell signifying the end of their lunch period. Ian whips his head away from Mickey and stares out beyond the bookshelf before shrugging and grinning like that strange, tense moment they just had didn’t even happen. Mickey doesn’t know what it meant, but it’s left him biting his lip and wondering why the fuck he feels like he should have done something differently.

In the time that Mickey’s raced through his thoughts, Ian’s stood up from the floor. He throws the book back into Mickey’s lap and waves. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’

Mickey presses his lips together in a tight smile and nods, looking up at Ian. ‘Mhm.’

With one last grin, Ian turns around and disappears behind the bookshelf, leaving Mickey alone in their secluded little spot. Wait, fuck, when had it become _their_ spot, his and Ian’s spot.

He needs a smoke more than he needs to go to his next lesson, he decides.

*

Ian’s already sat cross-legged on the floor with the entire contents of his school bag sprawled out around him, ROTC issued penknife and all, by the time Mickey gets to the hidden space between the bookshelves.

‘Hey,’ he says shortly, flicking his eyes over Ian’s possessions and furrowing his brow.

‘Hi,’ Ian replies with a distracted tone, hands flying over the objects, picking them up and putting them down.

‘Whatcha, uh… Whatcha doin’, there, Gallagher?’ Mickey asks, scratching at his lip and scrutinising Ian’s movements.

Ian scowls at the floor and then throws his practically empty pencil case just short of Mickey’s feet with a growl. ‘I can’t find my fucking pencil.’

Mickey silently laughs and wets his bottom lip before pulling at it with his teeth, watching Ian for a few more moments before sighing and crouching down. Ian barely glances up as Mickey leans in, hand reaching towards Ian’s ear.

‘What’re you-‘

‘It’s behind your fuckin’ ear, dipshit,’ Mickey chuckles, slowly pulling the pencil out and going to brandish it in front of Ian’s face but… he never quite gets there. His hand ends up sort of hovering by Ian’s cheek and he can’t seem to stop staring into Ian’s eyes. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, _nope_. What’s he about to do.

It’s Ian who starts to lean in and it’s Mickey who doesn’t pull away. Ian’s lips are kind of soft but there’s a hitch every now and then where they’re slightly chapped. Mickey’s not _entirely_ sure what he’s doing because, sure, he’s fucked people before, but he’s never really been inclined to go for the whole making out thing. Not that Ian’s making it go that far, anyway. He just seems to be content keeping it close-mouthed and sweet. Mickey’s kinda liking the sweetness.

He’s not wholly sure how long it takes for Ian to pull back and start the staring thing up again, but he does, and Mickey honestly doesn’t feel anywhere near as awkward as he’d envisioned. It’s quite nice, actually, watching each other’s smiles start to spread across their lips because _holy shit, this feeling we’re feeling’s mutual and that’s pretty fucking great_.

‘Uhm, so that was-‘

Mickey needs Ian to shut up for a change, and he thinks the most effective method to get him to do so is through kissing him again. He can’t help but feel grateful that they’re sheltered in _their_ hiding place, between the bookshelves.

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm still taking prompts until the end of March! :)](http://southsidemilkovich.tumblr.com)


End file.
